Damien Jurado Will Take Your Breakfast-Food-Related Question Now

Earlier this year, Seattle's Damien Jurado issued his 10th full-length album, Maraqopa, continuing his evolution from spectral, introspective folk whisperer to bold, ambitious, genre-splicing troubadour. It's his second album -- following 2010's Saint Bartlett -- helmed by fellow musician/bard Richard Swift (who's also produced albums by the Mynabirds and Laetitia Sadier, and is the Shins' touring keyboardist), and the collaboration has pushed Jurado to stock the rather bare ol' songwriting cupboards with richer roots-rock, buoyant bossa nova, smoldering psych-blues jams, and more. Like always, though, Jurado's pointed tales and evocative character sketches speak to love longed for, grasped, and disintegrated; faith (or the lack thereof); and somehow moving forward after everything's been lost or destroyed. Even as his songs grow more dynamic, Jurado remains a fairly reticent fellow, preferring to let his music do most of the talking. Still, he agreed to finish a handful of sentences we started; we call it "Fill in the Blanks."

The thing I'm most looking forward to about playing tonight at the Mercury Lounge is . . . "the fact that I will not be playing two shows. I get to see some friends. I get to eat a meal."

During the 10 minutes before I go onstage, I . . . "get a cola, and call home."

In the 10 minutes after I come offstage I . . . "get a cola, and call home."

The one thing I'll remember the most about recording Maraqopa is . . . "writing the song 'Working Titles' and tracking it immediately. What you hear on the album is me singing it the first time through. We did one take."

I love making albums with Richard Swift because . . . "nothing beats making a record with your best friend."

I know a song I'm writing and recording is finished when . . ." I would honestly say that 80 percent of my songs are unfinished. There really is no end. Just the sound of me giving up."

If someone had told me 20 years ago I would be this super-prolific songwriter who releases almost an album a year, I. . . "would have believed them."

The single most satisfying thing about creating music is . . . "meeting the people who listen to it."